Like this:

How does it feel to be alone in the myriad of a human sea? How does it feel to see your future crumble in front of your own eyes? How does it feel to be not in the Good Book anymore? How does it feel to sink into the depths of negativity? How does it feel to be walked upon over and over again? How does it feel to face rejections and bear heartbreaks so intense to crush the very spirit of your soul? How does it feel to write lamenting notes instead of hopeful narratives? Lastly, how does it feel to not feel yourself as you but a distant creature, rather a FRANKENSTEIN.

I don’t know the answers and I don’t want them to feel. Some people are heartless and senseless. It’s about time I join their league and wear a mask, get myself lost in a masquerade party. But, no, I can’t do these things. Better to get myself bruised than bury someone else. My mind is in a fix and the jigsaw puzzle is still awaiting for the last puzzle piece, the perfect image’s desire is still incomplete. The mazes are yet to be run in and the scribbles too unharmonious to touch the strings of the heart. I am not curious anymore, I am learning to embrace myself at my worst. As if worst is the new best.

Like this:

I was on cloud nine and suddenly, out of nowhere , I found myself burried deep down in the earth. Apparently, there wasn’t a speck of a single bruise on my body but I couldn’t breathe. My voice choked and my heart sank. I asked him ” where did I go wrong?”. He said “you are perfect and haven’t done anything wrong”. Unsatisfied by his reply, I asked him again “did I trigger your this aloofness?” He said “No ! I just want to be alone. I don’t feel the same for you. SORRY, BUT YOU’RE LATE.” I couldn’t shed the tears that I so wanted to see running down my cheeks and freeing my soul but they couldn’t come out. He said ” We are soulmates and we will be forever.” My conscience laughed a great laugh and said “you just got betrayed again honey, encounter your worst fear now , Fear of betrayal.” There I was standing and wondering that how could I give in to some prosaic verses and ornamented words. I had always been a lover of words and poetry but my tragedy was too much for me at that time. I felt so low and degraded at his deprivation, I wanted him to stay but he couldn’t live with an introvert and an anxiety patient. In tears, I texted my best friend, who was still there for me , even in this time too. She made me fall in love with my Creator and myself once again. She corrected my self abrasive conduct and resolved my doubts. Her words were so comforting and awakening at the same time.

This time, the heartbreak is burning me and stabbing me every single second but I am ready for the square off. I don’t even hate him now because for that to happen, I will have to establish connection with him again. A connection of abhorrence and dispisement. And I want to distance myself from every single person that negates my soul and self.